Trust
by Queenbean3
Summary: After the disastrous race against Prince Aikka, Jordan tries to make peace with Molly.


Oban Star-Racers: ©Sav! The World Productions / Jetix Europe 2005. All rights reserved.

Author's Note: This story takes place after Episode 8 (Agile like Aikka) and within Episode 9(Surprising like Super Racer). I got the idea because it was the only time I could remember Molly and Jordan having a real fight. Naturally the pairing is MxJ but it's not too obvious. It's more like a friendship story then a romance, but it's mainly an attempt to dig deeper into their partnership and what it means for them.

* * *

Trust

Molly stormed into her bedroom, kicking the sliding door behind her to create the same effect as slamming it. Collapsing onto the bed she shoved her face into her pillow and screamed all the air out of her lungs. When her throat went raw she turned her CD player on, drowning in angry rock music to keep the tears from flowing.

Everything was wrong. It was only the second race of the playoffs on Alwas and the Earth Team still had no points. Today's race with Prince Aikka should have been an easy victory, but instead it was a complete disaster. If Don Wei had just listened to her, if Jordan had just held his fire, then they could have scored some points today. Instead they were left with nothing. None of them trusted her, not even her own father.

No, Don Wei was no longer her father. He had absolutely no faith in her. It was only out of desperation that he let her replace Rick as the pilot of the Whizzing Arrow II. She could never seem to please him even when she won a race. All he did was criticize her. At this rate she could never be Eva again.

At least Jordan should have been on her side. Weren't they partners? Hadn't they been through enough together? He knew how badly she wanted to win and she couldn't do it without his support. Why did his hatred of the Prince have to change all that?

Whatever. It didn't matter. She refused to speak to him ever again.

When she got tired of angry music she picked up her sketchbook and made angry drawings, mostly of her teammates getting horribly mutilated and eaten by monsters. She attempted to chew a rock hard piece of flavorless gum.

Suddenly there was a timid knock on the door. She recognized the sound of Jordan's voice on the other side. "Molly? Are you in there?"

She scowled and turned her back on the door. Her vow of silence remained firm.

"Don Wei's gone." Jordan said. "You can come out now."

_Yeah, right,_ she thought. _For all I know he put you up to this, you traitor._

"It's dinner time. We have Instant Noodles."

_No, thanks. I'd rather eat my own sweaty socks._

"I was hoping we could talk, too."

_Too late for that._

He waited for her to say something, anything, but she stayed mute. She could almost see him standing out in the hall, staring down at his boots as he wondered what to say. "Okay, I get the hint." he said at last. "But if you change your mind you know where to find me."

As his footsteps moved down the hall she picked up her pencil and continued work on a grotesque, bloody image that no fifteen year old girl should ever have drawn. Her stomach gurgled.

* * *

Jordan returned to the empty kitchen alone. He prepared a cup of Instant Noodles for himself and sat at the table, blowing the steam off to help it cool. Part of him hoped Molly would come join him, but he knew that she was far too stubborn to give in. When that girl made up her mind she never wavered from her choice, much like the team's obstinate manager. Those two were more alike then he cared to think about.

He still couldn't fathom what possessed her to shut off his turret that day. Why did she trust that prince so much? Did she really think he would keep his promise not to use his arrows? Everyone knew the Crogs were pulling his strings, but of course she was too stubborn to listen to him. Plus, that prince was just too handsome and charming. Those kinds of guys were always heart-breakers, yet the girls always seemed to love them best. Just another strange mystery about girls he would never understand.

Molly was full of mysteries. She never talked about her past, never mentioned her family or home back on Earth. When Jordan spoke fondly of his mother she would get this faraway look in her eyes, like she was searching for something she couldn't see. It worried him.

He didn't pry into her life but he sensed that much of it had been lonely. She didn't seem to know how to talk or act around others. Most of the time she shielded herself with a mighty wall of toughness; but at times when that wall fell away she seemed so lost and helpless. That worried him, too.

At the crash site on the beach they'd argued and he accused her of trusting the prince more than him. She had called him an idiot and hit him, but there were tears in her eyes. His mother taught him that under _no _circumstances was it _ever_ okay to make a girl cry. The only person he was angry with now was himself.

He crushed the empty Styrofoam cup in his fist. There was an unopened one in the cupboard, which he prepared for Molly. She wasn't talking to him, but she still needed to eat. If she turned him down again it was okay. Just as long as she knew she wasn't alone anymore.

* * *

Molly's masterpiece of death and gore was almost complete. All she needed to add was the blood. She applied red marker generously to the paper until her head became dizzy from the fumes. Her stomach cried out again more insistently then before. "Oh, shut up." she growled back. "I just ate five pieces of old gum. What more do you want?"

Despite her sarcasm she was beginning to see the fatal flaw in her plans. How long could she survive without food? She could ration out her meager stash of junk food, but at some point she would have to venture out and start foraging. Maybe she could steal something from the kitchen when everyone else was asleep. But the mechanics often worked late into the night, and what if she needed the microwave? Perhaps she could climb out the window and go into town for dinner. On second though, that was a bad idea, too. Much of the local cuisine was unsafe for human consumption. She remembered seeing a customer in a bar eating a plate full of hairy things that were still moving. Still worse, what if she bumped into Aikka? She couldn't bear the thought of facing him now.

Suddenly she heard footsteps in the hall. She recognized them immediately as Jordan's boots. Jumping from her bed she picked up a shoe and raised it over her head, prepared to defend her stronghold to the death against the treacherous invader.

There was a clinking noise outside the door and more footsteps moving away.

Then nothing.

Confused, Molly dropped the shoe on the floor and tiptoed across the room. When she opened the door the hall was empty except for a metal tray on the floor. It held a cup of Instant Noodles and a plastic fork. It was the beef kind, her favorite. And it was still warm.

She stared at the simple offering as if it had fallen out of the sky. She poked her head out the doorway and looked up and down the hall. Jordan was nowhere in sight. Slowly she bent and picked up the tray. Closing the door behind her she sat down on the floor and began to eat. The noodles should have been delicious, but her taste buds could barely register any flavor. Her whole body felt strangely numb.

This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to barge into her room yelling and she was supposed to hit him with her shoe and chase him away. That's how fights went. But this was not an act of war. She almost wished it was. This humble meal alone was a thousand times worse than the most horrible battle could have been.

She didn't have an appetite anymore. Turning on her music player she raised the volume up full blast. Then she buried her face in her pillow and wept, her sobs muffled by angry rock music.

* * *

The two partners spent the next day apart once again. While Jordan was left to wander the streets Molly received training from ex-pilot turned coach Rick Thunderbolt. At first she despised the whole ordeal but after a while she began to feel her stress melting away. The strenuous exercises let her blow off her steam and Rick's easygoing nature allowed her to finally get some of her issues out in the open. It didn't hurt that he was the only person not involved in yesterday's mess, either.

They were flying back to the pit now. Even though they were riding her rocket seat Rick was the one steering. It wasn't like she could protest since he was three times bigger then her, but she felt it was fair since he could no longer pilot a star-racer. She sat behind him clinging to his tree-trunk sized waist, goggles in place to keep his long black hair from blowing into her eyes.

"Tomorrow we'll pick things up with Jordan and get him up to speed." Rick was saying.

Molly lifted her face out of his hair, her surprise hidden behind pink lenses. "What? You're coaching _him_, too?"

His face was turned away from her but she could tell he was smirking. "Sure, you guys are partners, right?"

"But he can't fly!" she protested, sputtering on a few black strands. "You're a pilot! What can you teach him about being a gunner?"

"I may not know much about guns, little mouse," the ex-pilot said sagely. "But I do know a thing or two about teamwork. Your partner's your lifeline. He covers your back so you can stay the course. How can you win if you're not both on the same level?"

Molly pouted. Why did Rick always have to be right? Somehow he had a way of saying exactly what she needed to hear, even if she didn't want to hear it. She hoped he wasn't psychic or else her secret was in trouble. He was right, though, she did need to make peace with Jordan if she hoped to win the Ultimate Prize. But what if she couldn't? For some reason the idea of apologizing to him made her feel queasy.

She found him in the pit's locker room just before the day's race was about to start. They had little time to talk then, but that short moment was enough to ease her fears. He acted like he'd forgotten all about yesterday and everything was back to normal. Without a second thought they got into the Arrow II and flew off.

It was a very unusual race this time; not only was their opponent Super Racer really Satis, the servant of the Avatar, but Molly had finished the race without Jordan. He'd been ejected entirely off the course after Satis's wrecking ball knocked his turret out of place, but luckily the gunner had taken less damage than the ship. She'd been so relieved to find him resting safely in an awning and flashing a thumbs-up, unhurt except for a slightly bruised ego.

Rather then flying straight back to the pit for repairs they parked the ship on the beach, the same spot where they had crashed the day before. For a long time they sat side by side in comfortable silence just watching the sun set. It was hard to explain why she felt so peaceful then. Maybe it was the brilliant orange clouds or the sound of the waves, but more likely it was simply because she was with him. His presence alone was relaxing. Why had they been fighting anyway? It seemed so silly now.

"Hey, Jordan." she said at last. "Thanks for the noodles. They were great."

He looked back at her with some surprise. "You really ate them?" he said, a joking grin on his face. "I thought you threw them out the window."

She shook her head. "No, really. I was a total jerk to you. I didn't deserve it."

He shrugged her apology off with his broad shoulders. "Well, you won the race today so I guess we're even."

She stared off into the distance with a smile. "Let's do it together next time."

_The End_


End file.
